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  SECRET SPELLS IN WITCHWOOD

  A Witchwood Cozy Mystery

  JESSICA LANCASTER

  Copyright © 2019 Jessica Lancaster

  Original text copyright © 2018

  All Rights Reserved

  First published in 2018 under The Secret of Kingsway House

  No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, copied, or stored in any form or by any means without permission of the author. Your respect and support of the author is appreciated.

  All characters, events, brands, companies, and locations in this story are used fictionally and without intent of slander. Any resemblance to actual people are purely coincidental.

  NOTE: Written in British English, utilising the grammar rules of British English. Example; Mr and Mrs - instead of Mr. and Mrs.

  PARANORMAL MYSTERIES

  Cowan Bay Witches Cozy Mysteries

  Muffins, Magic, and Murder (Book 1)

  Cupcakes, Crystals, and Chaos (Book 2)

  Pies, Palmistry, and Poison (Book 3)

  Treats, Tarot, and Trouble (Book 4)

  Witchwood Cozy Mysteries

  Cryptic Curses in Witchwood (Book 1)

  Secret Spells in Witchwood (Book 2)

  Monster Magic in Witchwood (Book 3)

  Reaper Rituals in Witchwood (Book 4)

  Bad Blood in Witchwood (Book 5)

  Wicked Witches in Witchwood (Book 6)

  CO-AUTHORED BOOKS

  With Hugo James King

  Murder on Silver Lake (Book 1)

  Murder on Red Rose Drive (Book 2)

  Murder at Maple House (Book 3)

  Join Jessica’s e-mail list for new releases by signing up!

  SECRET SPELLS IN WITCHWOOD

  When Evanora receives an invite to a wealthy family’s annual dinner party, she believes she’s been accepted into the small community at last.

  As a guest drops dead at the dinner table, the perfect family spiral into arguments, accusing everyone of murder, including Evanora Lavender.

  In an attempt to uncover what happened, Nora discovers her magic is gone. It could’ve been any of them, and now she’s vulnerable. Someone among them is practising magic, and Nora needs to find them before they find her.

  A paranormal cozy mystery set in a small English town, featuring a witch detective and her talking familiar as they sleuth around Witchwood. Written in British English.

  PROLOGUE

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  ABOUT JESSICA LANCASTER

  PROLOGUE

  I ran down the steps of the steep white stone staircase to the foyer. They were chasing me; their feet on the wood was heavy. I turned slightly to look up the stairs, but an encroaching darkness blinded me.

  Running ahead was a decision I quickly regretted.

  I was a witness to something horrific.

  In the centre of the marble floor was an off-white sheet, stained with several red patches. I hesitated to leave the bottom step, my fingers trembling around the bannister’s handrail.

  Petra Williams, a rich heiress sobbed at the feet of the body.

  “What happened?” I asked

  She gasped, clutching a handkerchief to her mouth. “I—I—I found him,” she said, bawling in tears. “He’s dead.”

  I wanted to know who, how, when— but my body had been through enough adventure this evening, I couldn’t continue this white-knuckle ride the family called a dinner party. “I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head as I approached her. For all I knew, it was her fiancée.

  “No,” she snapped, looking away to dab at the water mascara on her cheeks.

  “It’s okay,” I said, trying to convince myself more than her as I placed my palm on her back, attempting to give her some magical relief.

  She turned and grabbed my hand. “It’s not.”

  Her eyes were bloodshot. Crazed. I severed contact, pulling my hand and looking away.

  From the white sheet, I noticed the hand sticking out slightly. The cuff. Recognisable. I knew who it was. My gut sank.

  How could he be dead?

  ONE

  One Week Earlier

  Finally! I’d have something to do. Reading the letter from the Witches Council regarding the mentorship program, I read back to front, making sure not a single word was missed. Although there was no date, it gave me the motivation to get the spare room cleaned.

  I had been retired for over a month now, but the craving for adventure was strong. Even my familiar, a white barn owl, Ivory, who currently lived outside in a luxury handmade shed, was feeling the tension to be on the move again.

  Gregory Marston sat across from me at the small dining table, watching the smile on my face. “Good news?” he asked.

  I was elated to have someone stay in the house with me. I really had to spruce the place up now; perhaps buy a larger table, especially if I had more guests around; we couldn’t all be cramped around this small square.

  “Very good news,” I replied.

  He hummed, trying to peak a look at the letter in my hands. I pulled it away, pressing it close to my chest.

  He chuckled. “Well?” he asked, wiping the crumbs of chocolate cake from his plate with the side of his knife.

  If he must know. “I’m going to have a hobby,” I said. Although the garden he was building me was supposed to be my hobby, something I needed desperately to occupy my time. Now, I’d be imparting my time and knowledge onto another.

  The letter, on yellow paper, read;

  Dear Evanora Lavender,

  Thank you for your many years of servitude.

  We were honoured to receive your letter quite so soon after you’d left.

  Of course, we will have a lovely young witch come live with you for a few months.

  Treat her well and take her under your wing.

  Cassandra Hexe will be your mentee.

  She does have a cat.

  If you require any additional help, we are here.

  Enclosed is a retirement sum, and a weekly stipend amount for training Miss Hexe.

  Sincerely,

  The High Witch

  A knock at the door came.

  Soon? I thought.

  “I’ll get it,” Greg said, jumping from his seat with his teacup in hand.

  Before I could protest, he was up and away.

  Thud.

  A heavy hand for a woman, I smiled. Although it could’ve been anyone at the door. Perhaps it was Maureen with another cake, she did have a hefty knock.

  I waited for a moment, turning the letter in my hand.

  “Greg? Who is it?”

  Smash.

  “Greg?” I asked, pushing the table slightly to stand.

  Crunch.

  TWO

  A man crouched inside the doorway, his features blacked out by the light behind him. I squinted through my glass, looking at the strange figure as Greg stuttered and stumbled over words in front of him.

  “You scared me,” he said, kneeling to pick the broken cup.

  “H
ello?” I said, approaching them both.

  It clearly wasn’t Cassandra Hexe.

  The man gained form and colour. Standing at an incredible height, even hunched inside the doorway. A giant. He wore a formal suit and bowtie. His face was gaunt with sunken eyes, and a complexion devoid of colour.

  “Miss Evanora Lavender,” he said through a deep gravelly voice.

  “That’s me,” I said.

  Greg stood again with the pieces of his cup in hand. “This is Len, he’s the Kingsway family butler.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said, extending my hand for him to shake it.

  He pushed an envelope into my hand. “It’s an invite.”

  Greg oohed with wide eyes before rushing back into the kitchen.

  “What’s the invitation for?” I asked.

  “The Kingsway family have formally invited you to a dinner party. Everything is in there,” he said.

  I loved dinner parties, or more aptly, rich people food. “Thank you,” I said with a slight curtsy.

  Len quickly left, once out of the front door, he unhunched his shoulder, standing at least an entire foot taller than he had been. I watched him, plodding down the street, almost dragging his arms on the pavement.

  Greg rushed behind me to catch a final glimpse of Len before he was gone. “Scares me every time,” he said.

  “I thought you worked for them?”

  He chuckled. “I do, but I’ve never met them.”

  That didn’t seem like the correct way to run a business. “Well, I’ve been invited to a dinner party,” I said, turning the fancy letter over in my hand.

  “Oh, Nora!” he clapped his hands together. “That’s amazing.”

  I thought so. I guess I was being accepted into the community after all.

  I took the letter through to the kitchen and sat at the table. Flipping the letter over to see the back, I ran my fingers over the wax seal, like how the Witches Council sealed their letters.

  The Kingsway emblem was a large cursive ‘K’ in white and purple swirled wax. I used a knife to slowly lift the seal without ruining it. They’d used two pieces of cardstock to write the invite– fancy.

  Dear Evanora Lavender,

  The Kingsway family would be honoured to have you join them on the 29th of April—

  I stopped. That’s the full moon. It would be the first time doing anything in my home, and I was looking forward to it. It was the beginning of the roots I intended to plant and grow here. I could always do it after the party, perhaps at midnight, it seemed fitting given my history of being a nocturnal witch.

  –at the Kingsway Manor House. 6 Live Grove, Witchwood, Kent.

  Live Grove wasn’t far from where I lived, hidden down a secluded path. That’s where all the rich people lived, the gated houses with the electric codes and telecoms to control the gates.

  The gate opens at 7 P.M. where you will be greeted by a member of staff. Please wear appropriate dinner attire.

  I wasn’t sure I had anything appropriate enough to wear for a dinner party. I’d attended parties—well, soirees, but nothing quite so fancy as this. I’d have to raid my wardrobe or buy something new. I bet they’d all be wearing designer clothes.

  “Worried?” Greg asked.

  “Nervous,” I said, looking over my glass at him.

  He nodded. “I only know of one person who’s been, but she never spoke about it.”

  I hummed, scanning the letter.

  We’re happy to embrace a local witch into the community.

  Please accept this invite as an acceptance into the fray.

  Take care,

  V. Kingsway

  They know. They knew. I leaned back in my chair. Greg leaned over to try and take the letter. I snapped it on the table.

  “It’s for my eyes only,” I said with a wink. I guess rich families always had a hand in magic, someway or another. It wasn’t a foreign concept, how else were witches supposed to earn money if not for the rich.

  “What’s on the menu?” he asked, nodding to the cards.

  There was a second card behind the invite with the menu.

  “Starter is red lentil and sweet potato soup, the main course is creamed potatoes with caramelised onions and a pork tenderloin, and for dessert it just says, TBA,” I said, reading from the sheet of information.

  It was a great deal to absorb all at once, and I only had four days to let it sink in before I was there.

  “So are you—”

  “Of course,” I said. I’d be foolish to turn it down.

  THREE

  With the incoming trainee witch, a dinner party, and the full moon approaching. The next couple of days were bound to be busy. The first step would be getting the spare room cleaned out, and without magic; I needed to know what I had and where it was going.

  “Need any help?” Greg asked as I stood in the doorway of the spare room, looking at the mess of boxes and random items.

  I couldn’t have him routing through my belongings, there was no saying what he would find, or what I had in there, especially from all the potent potions and vials I’d curated and gathered over the years.

  “Oh, no, you’ve been more than enough help already,” I replied. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

  He patted his stomach slightly. “I wish I could,” he said. “One of the women I garden for made me a meat and potato pie, so I’ll be reheating that.”

  “Oo, Enjoy.”

  I didn’t know where to start with the spare room, but I knew there was one way of finding out. With food—and with pie on the mind, it was straight to where my mind headed. However, making pie was a lengthy process and I needed something quick to tide me over.

  I made linguine pasta, sautéed red bell pepper, and paprika chicken.

  While I ate, I mused about the future of the garden. I’d spoke to Greg about adding a deck; perfect for summer. My mind jumped around, thinking about the Kingsway family, I’d have to give them something; a family as rich as I believed them to be would’ve wanted for nothing. I wasn’t sure what they’d want, well—perhaps I did know.

  A crystal.

  I rummaged through boxes to find something I wasn’t using. I had some crystals, just not many that were sitting around useless. Everything in my home had a purpose, even a room I considered to be full of junk.

  In a box marked, ‘crystals’, nonetheless, I found something. A creamy grey and light blue polished stone. Celestite. I had plenty of smaller celestite, and it was one of the more common stones for warding homes and personal spaces.

  “Perfect,” I said, rubbing a hand over the smooth cold surface.

  For a family with everything, a little angelic help goes a long way. The next step would be finding a small box and a little tissue paper to put it in. I couldn’t well go to a fancy party and offer them a rock from the palm of my hand.

  “Oh, cleaning are you?” a squawk came from behind me.

  I jumped, clutching the stone hard to my chest. “Ivory,” I gasped, combing a hand up my face to offer something cool to the flushing hot blood flow.

  “What’s got you worried?” she asked.

  Sitting calmly on the cluttered bed, I smiled at her. “I think I’m finally being accepted by the community,” I said with a giant grin.

  She grumbled. “Oh.”

  “I received a dinner invite today from a wealthy family.”

  “You know rich people only want one thing,” she said.

  And she was right, especially those who knew I was a witch. I was caught up in the excitement. “Well, there’s a history, and if they’re paying, I’m sure I could cast some protection spell.”

  While Ivory didn’t have eyebrows, I knew she was raising them. “And when is it?”

  “The 29th of this month.”

  “The full moon?” she chuckled, snapping her talons on the floor. “They timed it well.”

  I wasn’t opposed to doing a little magic, given it was all above board. Perhaps after mentoring Ca
ssandra, I could take jobs for wealthy clients. It was no different than what my mother did in Scotland, or my aunt did in the medical field. “I should also tell you, we’ll have a new arrival soon,” I said.

  Ivory groaned. “Great.” She scratched a small line through the flooring.

  “No, Ivory, not great,” I said. “I mean—yes, it’s a good thing, I’m giving back to the younger witches. But you destroying this place is not great.”

  “Well, who is it?”

  “You’ll meet her when she arrives,” I said. “As you already noticed, I’ve begun cleaning.” I gestured to the room I was in.

  I’d barely moved a box, other than to find the crystal in my hand. It was a start, and all good things had somewhere to begin, rather than jumping in at the middle and hoping for the best.

  I scarcely moved another box before I took up residence in the living room with a cup of tea and leftover cake. I put my feet up on the ottoman and flicked through channels on the television.

  “I’m leaving, will be back in the morning,” Ivory shouted from the back door.

  Now that she had her shed, I wasn’t too worried about having guests inside the house, and she was so far outside the place that I could make noise without being shouted at for being loud.

  I had to take what she said into consideration, as my familiar, she was always going to try and make me think straight about a situation, and the one I was going into now, was controlled by excitement.

  A rich family and a witch, the two went hand in hand, perhaps this was a recruitment for a new family witch. A smile touched my lips, I’d only been retired for a month and now I was being headhunted.

  I’d need to make a good impression. Creating a mental checklist; dress well, good gift, be a welcoming presence. I nodded.

  Thud.